#exhausted aizawa

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

pez dispenser debris for the fic ask thing? 👀

As much as this is my “kill no darlings you will get EVERY flashback” fic, there’s overarching sociopolitical backstory explaining why Izuku and the rest of class 3A exploded in the public eye that I don’t think I’ll ever fully fit in.

It’s a combination of it being more of a meta analysis than anything and also requiring information from a perspective that I know will never appear in the fic. Like, the fic still gets the different moments that make up this analysis, but there’s no explicit connecting thread to show how they all locked together to create this sort of global cult following of class 3-A. I almost put in a little fake news article opinion piece that was meant to sort of walk the reader through why society is Like This, but I decided it was too heavy handed and deleted it.

Everything that I’m going to reference has already appeared in pez dispenser debris to some degree, and none of it will ever actually materially impact the plot. They may receive a little more detail down the line if they’re mentioned in passing in the fic, so out of an abundance of caution, I’ll stick it below the cut so people can avoid this, but I don’t personally consider any of this spoilers.

Izuku and the rest of the class are famous in pez dispenser debris in a way that’s pretty much unprecedented for students. Canonically, not even all might had a name for himself until after his graduation. Pretty much everyone from class 3A are public figures, with Izuku specifically being considered a major global figure.

In my mind, there was this perfect storm right during their second year that catapulted them into fame. The class personally has varying levels of awareness of why they got so popular, but there was this perfect cross winds of societal unrest and fear that made them household names.

There was an approximately one month span in their second year where they were just hit one after another with a major firestorms of events: The UA Sports Festival, the Sidekick Strike, and the Tartarus Prison Break/Desertion of Yokohama.

The UA Sports Festival is the one that the kids attribute this most to, because so many of the news articles that followed referenced their performance in it. But it probably gave them less mileage than what the other two events did.

What the UA Sports Festival did was showcase their skills to the world in a venue designed to show them off. The public was already on edge. All Might had retired, crime rates kept going up, and people were rapidly losing confidence in existing heroes. Class 2A made such an insane showing of skill in the second Sports Festival that it made the public rave about them for weeks after. It was extremely reassuring to Japan that they had such powerful heroes in the barrel and would soon be on the streets. But that attention probably would have died down had it not been for the Sidekick Strike and Yokohama.

The Sidekick Strike actually had nothing to do with them. But it undermined the public’s faith in heroes at just the right time.

The Sidekick Strike is just one of those things that I have no POV that would even tangentially be involved in it so we’ll get a few passing references in media clips and it’ll never be discussed in depth. Which is a shame because it’s such an interesting conflict to me.

The Sidekick Strike was heavily inspired by the 1919 Boston Police Strike. Effectively, it was the height of the labor rights movement, and police officers got together and went on strike to get the police union recognized. They had tried to negotiate and negotiations failed, and so they all walked off the job. The city descended into lawlessness, the national guard was deployed, it was a whole thing. Famously, Calvin Coolidge fired the entire police force over it on the grounds that there was no striking from public safety.

I thought it would be really interesting if there was something similar that happened with the sidekicks. The thing is that the heroics structure as it stands really incentivizes abuse towards sidekicks. We have a society where there’s a decent amount of heroes who are only in it for the fame. A not insignificant amount of money must come from marketing deals. And it’s a ranked system, so they’re all in competition with each other.

Heroes wouldn’t be incentivized to showcase their sidekicks—they’d be incentivized to take advantage of them and take credit for their work.

Like, think about the work-study experiences. Momo didn’t even officially work for the hero she studied with. She wasn’t getting paid. An adult woman used her for a shampoo ad. Who wants to bet whether Momo saw a dime from it? It’s probably very predatory because the nature of the system incentivizes predation.

I thought the underlying legal issues would be interesting and complex. Who owns a sidekick’s image—the agency or the individual? Who gets the proceeds of their brand deals? This all would be governed by their employment contracts, and sidekicks just starting out have very little leverage compared to big name heroes. And those heroes would want to keep their sidekicks names small and theirs big. The rankings are competitive, after all.

It’s a situation where I do think that like. The sidekicks would have a point in unionizing. The use of their image, appropriate compensation, and proper credit for their busts would all be like, very legitimate concerns in a normal employment context.

I see agencies like Idaten settling immediately with the union and having their sidekicks back on the street before the day is out. In my mind, idaten is considered the gold standard for sidekick jobs already, and their employees mostly did it out of solidarity with the people they worked alongside of. Like, Idaten was already doing most of the union’s demands and signed off very quickly on the remaining ones. If it was just about the Idaten sidekicks, none of them would have gone on strike, but they had a lot of colleagues who they depended on in the field who were in terrible situations. What were they gonna say, sorry, sucks to be you, I got a great gig though so condolences? These were the people keeping them alive. They went on strike because they knew Idaten would publicly settle before the day was out and set an example for the rest of the agencies. Hopefully it would help other agencies follow their lead.

But that didn’t happen. Some agencies, like Endeavor’s, fired everyone immediately. And I think a lot of agencies spent a long time picking over every line item in prolonged negotiations. It dragged out.

And that went over fucking terribly.

All Might just retired. Crime is up. And their sworn defenders are bickering over who gets what cut of the action figure line. Like I think the public would have fucking hated this in a post-All Might world. It would have seemed like the only real hero just medically and irreversibly retired and the rest of them are squabbling about whose turn it is in the spotlight.

I also think that the villains would have taken advantage of it.

The Tartarus Prison Break in pez isn’t the one that happened in canon. Here, the League of Villains attacked Tartarus and set everyone loose. In the process, they made a very clear stance: they are going to leave with All for One, and they are not going to attack any civilians. They won’t fight at all unless attacked first.

All of the horrible and sadistic villains they just let go have not made the same promise.

They chose to do this now because of the Sidekick Strike. All their heroes don’t give a fuck about protecting them, so they’re strapped for staffing. So they’re taking back their leader and going back to ground, and the heroes are free to immediately go after and contain all those bad bad villains who just escaped. And those guys are headed to the heavily populated mainland, so better be quick.

The whole world knew that was their explicit reasoning and promise. Because Himiko fucking lived tweeted the escape.

The Sidekick Strike took the hit for a lot of the blame, but I do see all the sidekicks breaking strike lines to go respond to the crisis. But response times were severely handicapped by the fact that most if not all of them were cut off from their agencies. It was just a complete systemic breakdown.

And then there became the question of what crisis do you respond to: All for One’s escape, or everyone else’s?

I mentioned in one of the little fake tumblr posts that the Tartarus Prison Break was seen as Endeavor’s greatest failure. And part of that is because he chose to sacrifice the nearby area, Yokohama, to contain All for One.

I am one of the biggest haters of Endeavor’s later arc, specifically because it required going back on the nature of the abuse he had subjected his family to that was already established in canon, but that’s a different rant. This is not canon endeavor. I hate what they did with canon endeavor.

That being said, I do think that the self doubt weighed on him once he became number one. And this was the moment of his career where it really crushed him.

All for One had escaped. So had every other villain from Tartarus. He should go after the most immediate threats. He knew this. It was basic triage.

But they would never have a better chance to stop All for One.

Prisoners in Tartarus aren’t exactly hitting all their macros and micros or training daily. They are not adherents to the Bakugou Katsuki Fitness Lifestyle. All for One was coming off spending the last few months drugged up to his eyeballs and strapped to a chair in a straitjacket with at least fifty guns pointed at him at all times. The man has not scratched his own nose in weeks. He’s weaker now than he’ll ever be again.

It was their best chance.

If he escaped, and he went back to ground, he’d have the time and space to get as strong as he wanted, and then he’d come back for real. And he’d be coming back for everything.

Stopping him the first time had cost them All Might.

And Endeavor simply was not All Might. And he still wouldn’t be All Might when the next fight came.

It really was the hardest decision of Endeavor’s life. He had to admit to himself that his own inadequacy was going to cost them countless lives. But he thought it was a hard decision he had to make. He was losing the battle for the barest chance at winning the war.

So he made the call that all heroes were to respond to All for One. They had to hit the league of villains now with their full force if they were to stand a chance. They could not afford to divide their already sparse forces. They’d respond to Yokohama when AfO was contained.

He was also the one who made the call to broadcast the warning message that we hear in the Twitter post. He thought it would give civilians their best chance. He didn’t want them to act with the expectation of the heroes being en route.

Of course, that meant that the entire city got fucking sirens going off and a message telling them that the heroes were not going to save them. Which, as you can expect, did not do a lot for public morale.

In my head, Tartarus is like, the equivalent to Gotham’s Arkham. It’s borderline an institute for the criminally insane. You don’t end up there unless you did something super fucked, are super dangerous, and have extreme violent tendencies. It’s exclusively for the most dangerous and indiscriminately violent criminals in the country.

The entire world was watching in real time while the tragedy unfolded. A lot of people were livestreaming after the emergency broadcast dropped, because they didn’t want the government to be able to handwave away how terrible their death was, or because they didn’t know what else to do, or because they just didn’t want to be alone. The full expectation was that it’d be a massacre.

But it wasn’t. Because Class 2-A responded instead.

The Class 2-A defensive efforts were discussed in one of the silly little fake tumblr posts and in the fake twitter post. In those, we find out that 1) Class 2-A, along with Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire responded to the scene; 2) the entire class rolled out of Mirio’s fucking mom van and tamaki and nejire’s cars like they were fucking clown cars; 3) the HPSC claimed it was a legitimate operation blessed and coordinated by them; and 4) a lot of people think this was a lie, in part because videos leaked of Aizawa bitching them all out in the street afterwards. We also see Izuku’s green lightning at the end of the twitter video, showing him responding to the scene just as the first villains hit the mainland.

This fight has a lot of names in the backstory that lives in my head. It’s called the Tartarus Prison Break for obvious reasons. It’s also been called in some circles the Desertion of Yokohama, because of the call Endeavor made.

But it’s also called the Battle of Yokohoma. And it’s ranked alongside the Battle of Kamino as one of the finest acts of modern day heroics. And that’s because of Class 2-A. If it hadn’t been for them showing up, it would have gone down in history as the Massacre of Yokohama.

Like. It kills me that I can’t include the full details of what happened, but there’s just too much to make in a flashback. It’s a fic in and of itself. But it really was the fight that made Class 2-A.

It was the first fight where they were really the only heroes that could be counted on. Granted, they’d had to fight for their lives alone, but this wasn’t just their lives. These were thousands of terrified civilians who all thought they were going to die.

It was the first true test of them as heroes in the world. And they actually rose to the occasion. They didn’t just fight the villains—they realized that they needed to get emergency services working throughout the city if everyone was going to make it. Momo and Tsuyu conducted a mildly hostile take over of the emergency call center so they could coordinate relief. They had fucking Tokoyami and Dark Shadow single-handedly holding the line on the hospital while Kaminari, Shoji, Jiro, and Sato all learned to drive for the Very First Time while commandeering the city’s fucking ambulances. They were fighting and containing villains, performing emergency aid, putting out literal fires, everything. It was the hardest fight of their lives.

There was a hot second where Class 2-A was The Moment. Like. The entire world was watching them during this fight, and they had no fucking idea until it was over. People lost their minds when the first footage made it out of Yokohama of a bunch of teenagers showing up and immediately throwing hands with S-Class villains.

It was global news. Think of the kind of media attention that was received by the search for the Titan, the Tham Luang Cave Rescue, the Suez Canal getting blocked by the Ever Given (rip queen you will always be famous to me), that kind of thing. Class 2-A was fighting for their fucking lives and then found out three days later while they were all still in the hospital that there was a prayer vigil going on in Portugal for them during the battle and CNN had 24 hours live coverage of the fight that had so many viewers it outnumbered the population of Finland. Like what do you even do with that information.

The world expected a massacre. They didn’t expect a bunch of footage of high schoolers kicking the shit out of superpowered murders and personally ferrying the injured to the hospitals they were also defending.

The other part about this fight that really made them permanently part of the public consciousness is that it was not lost on everyone that every single person who responded to that fight did so at the risk of their license.

All of them had provisional licenses, save Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire, all of whom went AWOL from the explicit directives ordering them to respond to the fight against All for One. The operation could not have been less authorized. They had to steal their gear and jimmy the UA fence to even get out. The explicit plan was to steal one of the UA buses and have Bakugou fucking drive them to the fight (he also did not know how to drive but he seemed the most likely of them to break literally every single motor vehicle code to get them there but still be naturally talented at it enough to not kill them) but Izuku told Mirio what bullshit they were up to and Mirio, who was with Tamaki and Nejire when the news broke, immediately decided he would be on that bullshit too and pulled up in his mom van.

In my mind, there were strict rules around provisional licenses and how they could be used, and they broke pretty much all of them to respond to Yokohama. It would have been grounds to revoke their provisionals and permanently bar them from heroics. Lemillion, Suneater, and Nejire could have all lost their licenses for helping them and for going AWOL.

The HPSC fucking fell over themselves to legitimatize the entire operation. They knew they were utterly fucked if they didn’t. These kids already had murals being painted of their faces in other fucking countries. There was a little old lady in Kyoto livestreaming herself working overtime to embroider Iida’s face onto a cushion because that lovely young man saved her darling granddaughter from *checks notes* horrible and painful death directly caused by the failings of the current HPSC administration. There were multiple trending posts online agreeing to fucking riot if those kids got in trouble for this.

Every single actual hero in the immediate vicinity of this disaster had responded to fight a villain who wasn’t actually attacking anyone. And then they fucking lost. They publicly broadcast a message saying Good Luck Champs Because We’re Not Going To Save You. It was an actual PR nightmare that they had a bare chance of salvaging if they just latched onto these kids like an aggressive parasite and that is exactly what they did.

They totally knew. Actually, it was a joint operation coordinated by and between UA and and the HPSC. Why would the kids be in trouble?? They had responded because the HPSC told them to.

UA gave it a week of dead silence and then issued a short statement praising the bravery of their students in a recent HPSC approved mission, and then they never said another word about it. They didn’t have any choice but to go along with the HPSC’s story. If they contradicted them, all of class 2-a would find their licenses pulled by the end of the day, and lord knows they wouldn’t wait for the court of public opinion to work its magic and would just all go out and become fucking vigilantes, because why not. Aizawa has aged 100 years since he got this class. Every single day he thinks of how it was a 50/50 shot between him and Vlad.

No one in the class is fully aware of just how famous they were in the immediate aftermath, because the school bent over backwards to try and shield them from it as much as possible. Like, they have an idea, but none of them saw the full explosion firsthand because of just how hard the school worked to keep it from them. Aizawa confiscated the internet router and told them it was punishment for whatever the fuck they did to the buses (thank god Mirio was just as crazy as them because they were NOT GOOD at hotwiring cars) but really it was to try and insulate them from it a little bit. Like. Japan’s Imperial Family wanted to do an official visit. The White House offered to host them. They received interview requests from every major talk show on the planet. Buzzfeed wanted to do a puppy interview with them.

Right now, Aizawa’s terrified for Midoriya’s graduation, but in the aftermath of that, he was breathing into a paper bag about all of them. Society had sort of latched onto them like they were the last life raft on the titanic. All for One was back, and All Might wasn’t, and the heroes had publicly broadcast a message saying they were useless, but don’t fucking worry, fifteen year old Iida Tenya is on the case. Society will be upheld by Kaminari Denki, currently viral for driving a real life city ambulance one hundred miles per hour down the street while screaming “WEE WOO BITCH.” And don’t forget the pillar that will be Mina Ashido, who rushed over to him earlier that day to show him her extra sparkly pink nails. And if you have a major fight that needs to be won? Don’t fucking worry, just send out bone-breaking boy wonder Midoriya Izuku and his equally reckless brother Toogata Mirio, because their dumbasses managed to take down an S-Class villain team that only All Might could defeat the first time around. Don’t worry about the multi week hospitalization they needed after, because that’s an acceptable burden to put on children.

When Aizawa started this job, he promised himself he would never send a student out to die. Some of them would die. But it would be tragedy, not damnation. He’d have given them their best chance. Part of the reason why he made that promise was because he sort of felt like his teacher sent him out set up to die, and it’s only luck that he made it through his first couple of years.

He has gone to the funeral of every single student he has ever had who did not make it. He goes back to their graves every year.

He was fucking petrified after Yokohama that society would push these kids too far too soon. Every single one of his classes before them had gotten the benefit of being practically unknown their first few years. They didn’t have the world talking about them like they were already the top heroes. He was terrified they wouldn’t have the space to learn and grow when they started.

A lot of teachers would have tried to mine the notoriety of Yokohama to hard launch their students’ careers. Aizawa told Nedzu point blank that he would quit tomorrow if he did not help him quash this thing as much as possible, and nedzu agreed.

This world killed its real heroes. It sucked them dry and left them like All Might, and he just needed fucking time. He needed fucking time to let them be kids and maybe they’d survive.

Izuku ended up being the one who escaped the aftermath of everything the least. His Quirk was too much like All Might’s for the world to let go of him easily.

And then Stain got fucking dogpiled by idaten in the aftermath of the Tartarus prison break and implied he considered Izuku the only true hero in the absence of all might and everyone started asking super inconvenient questions like “how does stain even know you exist” and “no really he called you by your actual legal name how does he even know that” and it just. It didn’t help things. Izuku’s suffering.

So yeah. There was just this absolute collision of a total lack of faith in current heroes combined with a huge swell of public trust in class 2-a that led us to being in the landscape we are now. All of the currently licensed heroes said that they wouldn’t be there to save the public, and then Class 2-A immediately hit back that they would be there. Actually, they’ll risk everything to be there. They’ll die to protect the public and they’ll risk the entire future they had been trying to build and they will fucking be there to save them.

There’s a lot of people that never forgave the heroes for deserting Yokohama. And there’s even more people who have absolute faith in Izuku and his classmates because they didn’t. That’s why the world is watching them so aggressively. These kids are the most trusted heroes in Japan right now.

I wish I could fit in more about what happened, because I love this backstory so much, but 1) some of it absolutely requires POVs like Endeavors, which we won’t get in pez dispenser debris, 2) there’s no one POV that could tell the full story via flashback and 3) it’d just be too long of a divergence. Like. It really is a whole fic of its own. I’d love to write it one day but I probably won’t have the time

[call-me-copycat]

I put hats on them for New Year's and forgot about it so every day they're both just like this when I come home

I didn't have any poofs to put on the top so they look like they're wearing dunce caps (⁠T⁠_T⁠) They're so dumb I love them

[the-copycat-hero]

thinking about Aizawa and Monoma's dynamic after the war again because this week's episode stomped all over me and my emotions

i feel like, if the two of them were ever to discuss The Horrors that they witnessed and experienced during the final battle, it would be Monoma that breaks and brings up the topic first. maybe it's because Kendo sees how exhausted he looks All of the Time and gently bullies him into talking about it with an adult. maybe it's because Vlad King keeps giving Monoma these concerned once-overs that are probably supposed to be discrete but are so glaringly obvious that the rest of the class inevitably turns to look at him, too. maybe it's because Monoma is just sick of it. (he couldn't sleep all that well before the war, and it only gets worse after. he keeps seeing things: Bakugo, crumpled and lifeless with blood pouring from his chest and mouth. Pro Heroes scattered across the battlefield like broken toy soldiers. Monoma couldn't blink, couldn't even look away—and now, when he closes his eyes, it's like he's watching it happen all over again.)

in any case, Monoma eventually caves. he manages to catch a minute alone with Aizawa, maybe on purpose maybe purely by chance, and he completely forfits the battle of attrition.

really, the hardest part is figuring out where to start. Monoma has so many things that he wants to say. he wants to thank Aizawa for being such a solid foundation to lean on when everything was going to hell—for doing his best to protect Monoma even when they were getting swarmed by Twice clones, caged in on all sides. he wants to apologize for giving Aizawa so much trouble before the war and for failing him at the end of it. he wants to ask Aizawa how he deals with it: how does he manage the weight of the world bearing down on him like this? how does he cope with the guilt?

at the same time, Monoma doesn't want to come across as ungrateful for the opportunity that Aizawa gave him to be a hero or, heaven forbid, completely childish. how is he supposed to talk about how small and empty and alone he feels sometimes without coming across as juvenile? it's pathetic, isn't it? Bakugo is back, and everything is fine now. Monoma doesn't understand why he feels like this.

he ends up spending so long trying to think of a starting point that Aizawa finally cuts in, nothing more than a simple "Monoma, are you alright?"

and that's it. the question. the soft tone of voice that holds something suspiciously close to concern. it is Monoma's undoing. all rational thought: gone. he has spent years perfecting the art of superfluous language and flowery prose, and yet with one simple phrase, it has all been blown away.

Monoma had wanted to start the conversation by saying something profound. what he says instead?

"Sensei, I am so tired."

he doesn't even manage to get through the entire sentence before his voice is breaking, and the moment he manages to choke out the final word, he starts to cry.

[ladysawblay]

"But you overheard, didn't you?" Midoriya glances up curious. "And you—that's it?"

Shouta stops to think about it. Sure, he's always wondered about the way Midoriya's mind work with how efficiently he manages to come up with theories and he's pinned thoughts on his cork board of notes about Midoriya, but his ideas about Midoriya's quirks were...minimal.

In short, Shouta doesn't care. Quirks aren't everything, not what everyone else makes them out to be.

He cares about what Midoriya likes. The foods he hates, the things that make his eyes sparkle and make him gasp with excitement. The things that bring a soft flush to his cheeks that blur into his specks of freckles. Shouta has theories on how many there are though he's held back from counting all cute spots on his face.

Because where else might they be? Shouta's thought about tracing his fingers down Midoriya's neck or pulling up his sleeves to count them off his arms. But what about his calves, thighs—could Shouta trace the night sky along Midoriya's back if they had all the time in the world?

He's the only piece of art Shouta's ever wanted to study.

Midoriya makes him want something else from this life—someone in his space, someone press his lips against first thing after they wake up, to grab at each other's shorts, tumble around in bed on lazy mornings. Shouta wants that domesticity, suddenly, immediately and so desperately. He imagines making pancakes on weekends and cuddling on the couch after a long day and falling asleep to the sound of each other's heart beat.

Shouta sits in these visions all while intensely staring down the target of his affections who stand still and wide eyed like prey ready to dart away. Midoriya twists at his fingers until Shouta pulls them apart, entangling their hands together.

"...No. That's not all. But whether or not you have a quirk isn't what makes you interesting."

And there—a flush that brushes across his cheeks in a pigment of rose and watermelon and Izuku goes rigid as a squeak eeps out. 

Adorable. 

[yonkokraven]

Small comments (BNHA manga 429 spoilers)

Horikoshi is getting one thing right at least, society will now not stand by and watch someone suffer, but instead... we keep the top heroes but add a separate category that does represent heroism?

It's good that now they measure actions and not power, but I am 99% convinced that Horikoshi left that old top of heroes so that Bakugo would be number 1 in that top, I hope that in the next chapter that top does not exist and that the new top does exist, but without Bakugo (although I know that it is impossible for Horikoshi not to stop giving awards to Bakugo just because)

The legacy of the villains restructured society in one way or another, but the fandom simply does not want to see it that way because everyone expected Tomura and Toga to live, but in case it had happened, I remind you:

-Tomura was not going to stop destroying, because that is the promise he made to the league (another thing that Horikoshi added at the last second, because Tomura simply wanted to DESTROY EVERYTHING)

-Toga would have been imprisoned, no matter how much they had avoided the death penalty, she would not be rehabilitated, no matter how much she redeemed a little of her actions, she would never have freedom. She chose to die because it was the only option she considered appropriate (and they literally say that she died as she lived, as she wanted).

What is criminal is that Horikoshi simply makes Deku accept that he is a murderer and makes Uraraka feel sad about being stabbed.

Deku does not have proper introspection, he is losing his power and could not prevent AFO from taking control of Tomura who preferred to destroy himself from within rather than let AFO continue...

and Uraraka wanted to save Toga with the difference that she did not want to be saved if it meant stopping and accepting the consequences of her actions.

Toga and Tomura needed help?

BUT OF COURSE, what happens is that the manga literally shows us that everyone has reached the point of no return.

Dabi almost killed his entire family, Tomura wanted to destroy the world even after discovering the truth, Toga wanted to live by her own rules and WANTED TO KEEP KILLING, the only one left after the first war who could stop everything was Spinner and he almost a Nomu thanks to AFO.

What should bother the fandom is how Aizawa is a bad teacher for 90% of the manga and doesn't even find a moment to properly apologize to his students, OR THE OWN EXISTENCE OF BAKUGO KATSUKI

OR THAT AOYAMA HAS TO START FROM SCRATCH AND NOT SHINSO THAT HE LITERALLY DID NOT TAKE THE NECESSARY FIRST YEAR TESTS TO GET TO SECOND YEAR.

[loverofcoffeeandfiction]

From the diary of Silver RunningFox: Shouta Aizawa and Silver have a growing family. This is a snippet of controlled chaos. Poor Aizawa…

Scene: The Calm Before the Chaos

Silver’s gone for a prenatal checkup. Shouta is home. Alone. With the twins. And Eri.

Silver grabs her bag, leans in, and kisses Shouta’s cheek. “I won’t be long.”

He gives her a flat look that says you already are, but nods. “We’ll be fine.”

She raises a brow. “You’re sure?”

Shouta doesn’t flinch. “I survived Class 1-A. I survived villains. I survived Nezu’s ‘team building’ retreat. This is cake.”

From the hallway:

“DAD, SHE LICKED MY EAR!”

A crash. Followed by wild galloping. Possibly a small explosion.

Silver pauses at the door, smiling slowly. “Good luck.”

She shuts it behind her with the casual cruelty of a woman who knows what’s about to happen.

Hour One:

Shouta finds Eri helping Michi glue glitter to Kai’s eyebrows.

“Training,” Kai explains, eyes wide and shimmering like a disco ball.

Aizawa- “For what?”

Kai- “Stealth missions.”

Aizawa- “…Glitter isn’t stealth.”

Kai- “It is if it blinds the enemy.”

He sighs and moves on. Quietly texts Mic: If I disappear, avenge me.

Hour Two:

Snack time devolves into a debate over apple slices vs. ‘square cheese’.

Kai stages a hunger strike.

Michi threatens to eat the baby’s snack reserves.

Eri makes tea and says nothing—she is above this war.

Shouta gives them carrots. They boo him.

Hour Three:

The living room is a pillow fort. A war zone. A dance floor.

He can’t tell.

Eri is hosting a “WWE Tea Party.”

Kai has renamed himself “The Snackinator.”

Michi is narrating a dramatic soap opera starring plush toys. One is pregnant. With a dragon. Probably twins.

He closes his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Hour Four:

Silence.

Too much silence.

He finds Kai duct-taped to the wall (gently), Eri braiding a stuffed bear’s hair, and Michi… under the table with scissors and a chunk of her own hair.

She grins up at him. “I fixed it.”

He doesn't yell. He just… quietly walks to the kitchen, drinks water directly from the faucet, and stares into the void for thirty seconds.

Hour Five:

Silver returns to find Shouta on the couch, one child snoring on his chest, the other two asleep mid-combat.

He’s got glitter in his hair, juice on his shirt, and the faint twitch of a man who’s seen things.

Silver leans down and whispers, “Told you.”

He doesn’t even look at her.

“…They’re not allowed to be alone again until they’re thirty.”

She smiles sweetly. “But they were safe, weren’t they?”

He mutters, “Define ‘safe.’”

And from the pile of pillows, Kai mumbles in his sleep:

“Snackinator… out…”

Shouta Aizawa. Hero. Teacher. Father.

He’s faced villains. Nightmares. Bureaucracy.

But this?

This was war.

And the glitter… never comes off

[daisynik7]

okay but what about a threesome with these two? with them looking exactly like this? let's say we get a little crazy 🤪🤪

[ao3feed-erasermic]

Exhausted

Use the related link post to read Exhausted on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/62826424 by hayl0ftt Aizawa gets home late with a horrible migraine and full of exhaustion. He gladly is greeted by his husband and Maine Coon kitten at least. Words: 532, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic Additional Tags: Married Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Late at Night, Fluff, Quirk Side Effects (My Hero Academia), Ocular migraines, due to Aizawa’s Quirk, Aizawa is prone to vision loss, aizawa and mic are cat dads, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, i can’t sleep so neither can aizawa, probably horribly OOC Use the related link post to read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/62826424

[seasprin]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60184513/chapters/153580792

As of yesterday, The Devil's Trumpet, My Aizawa x Reader fanfic is done with the writing process! Updates are still every Tuesdays and Thursdays! Please read it if you haven't already!

[mynamesmacsen]

I claim to be irl present mic but if I don’t get another 12 shots of expresso rn I might crash out. So maybe I’m more Aizawa coded.

[eraseur]

"I'm so tired..."

[timesnewreader]

OKAY WELL FUCK MINT!!!!!! First of all I really should have been more patient because I read this at work and I’m now in a predicament😳 But that’s on me, cuz I should’ve know this was going to be HOT AS HELL AND ALSO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN JESUS FUCKING CHRIST MINT AJBDJAJBFBNANNDNNANNFNBANBDNSDB👏👏👏👏👏 LIKE HOLY FUCK DUDE!!!!!

The smut was glorious, genuinely love how she’s letting herself open up to sex as a positive experience and how that is planting the seeds for other emotional realizations!! TOUYA DIDNT MAKE YOU CUM GIRL AND HE DID NOT TREAT YOU RIGHT!!! GET THAT FAT NERDY COCK YOU DESERVE IT👏👏👏👏👏👏 And he deserves one hundred bajillion dollars, I need to fuck him right now HOLY SHIT!

And like the intimacy they’re developing beyond the sex is also crazy insane and you are going to kill me someday🙌🙌🙌 Like one, the two awkward people of ever talking about his sterility, I love these freaks😭 And he’s either a liar or the least self-aware person ever because he’s so paternal istg, I’m sure I’m biased from canon Aizawa but still I will come for him…

And then mint, THAT LAST LINE???? You are so EVIL, EVIL MINT. Like what a beautiful gut punch cliff hanger I will be doing a fat gainer off of the empire state building tomorrow. The fragility of his voice I’M GOING TO SCREAM.

This was excellent Mint, you deserve such sloppy toppy, and like all the money ever. Just wonderful, thank you so much😭🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

Inevitable Things : chapter thirteen

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks, fingering

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The sheer force he kisses you with aches. Shouta's lips are slick with your cum and his tongue tastes like you, musked and slightly salty in the way that almost makes you search for it, but you don't care. No, you revel in it. In the dark, you both grope and grind, his clothed knee sliding between your legs. You wonder if he can feel how wet you are through the fabric, but then you remember he already knows. It’s all his fault.

Your hands slide under his shirt. His body is soft in ways you like, in ways you don't recognize. Touya’s body was thin to the point of almost frailty, while Aizawa's feels perfect for grasping, for pulling towards you, perfect for pressing against. Sex is fun, you decide. Despite all the awkwardness and tension and overstimulating, sex is good. You get Nemuri's obsession with it, you understand why people crave it. It's so basic, so primitive; it tickles the back of your brainstem, a fundamental part of you that needed it most of all.

And yet. 

And yet you need more.

You can feel how used your body is, how puffy and fried your clit is from the attention, but it's barely done anything to quell the want that's been building inside you. How, after all of that, can you still feel so unsatisfied? So insatiable? What the fuck has this man done to you? What door has he unlocked inside your mind?

Together, you peel his shirt from his body. Skin to skin contact, your breasts against his chest: it all feels right. The animal part of your brain sparks up once again. It’s so basic of a need that it eats at you like hunger. Lust drives you, pushes you. You never feel old, but suddenly you feel young and excited. 

When your hands wander south, Shouta breaks away. 

“What do you think you're doing?”  You swear he's glowering at you through the dark; you can feel his breath huff, but it doesn't stop your fingers from slipping open the button of his pants. He smells like aftershave, but there’s still a patch of scruff on his jawline, presumably missed in the rush to see you. Blindly, you try to kiss at it.

“Touching you.” Why are you so giggly? So sweet?

Your fingers brush against the trail of hair between his stomach and the edge of his briefs. It's short, cropping as if he used to shave, but hasn't in a time. His body shudders at the touch, his hands pulsing tighter, tighter around your tits. Oh, that makes something burn hotter inside you, knowing how you have an equally big effect on him as he had on you.

 “Careful.”

“Or what?” Your voice is still quivering from cumming so hard, but you're gaining confidence.  “You afraid I'm going to make you cum?”

You force the fly open and work his pants down. He doesn't help you, his hands frozen in place as you wiggle. The effort steals a laugh from you, then he joins in, softly. It’s a surprisingly tender moment, but it doesn’t rob you of the tension. The want is building in your throat, threatening to choke you.

“I just don't think-” he whispers. Your thumbs are tucking under his waistband. His skin is warm and soft; you want to touch more of it.

“-I'll behave-”

With a press, you can feel his briefs inch down and the weight of his cock shift. It strikes you that you haven't touched it yet. No, you've only seen it in that picture, only felt it through cloth. Something inside you flutters at the thought of how thick he looked. Could you even take all of it? Truthfully, you doubt it; you’re not a virgin, but you aren’t exactly experienced either. Is it possible to be bad at sex? 

Just as you start to spiral, Aizawa catches you by the elbow. It’s almost impossible to worry with him and the way he touches, the focus he gives you. Even the way he grips your arm feel scandalous, charged with want and desire, like he's going to hold you like this forever, like he's going to live up to his promise and use you however he wants.

“-if you pull my cock out while I'm between your legs.” Aizawa swallows deep. “So, really think about-”

Clumsily, you crane up and catch him in a kiss, your lips blindly smooshing into his cheek.  It’s just enough to catch him off guard, to steal an extra moment before you reach down the front of his pants and wrap your hands around his member. God, it's thick. Almost grossly so. Can your body even take all of that?

“I thought you were gonna do whatever you wanted with me,” you mumble into his scruff. His cock is hot and slick with his own precum. When you run your fingers down the underside, Shouta practically chokes on his spit. That’s right; you’ve cum three times today, but he’s been practically untouched. He must be aching for it. 

With a shaky hand, you drag his cock down, through the wet of your pussy. The sensation sends a shock through both of you; at the same time, you both gasp and hiss, keening deeper against each other. Earlier, everything felt hot, soft and dripping like your core was nothing but melted metal, but now it’s purely electric. Every touch of skin trills through you like a shock, lights up your brain like sparks. Fuck-- this is fun. You’re having fun. 

“You said you wanted to go slow.” Aizawa’s voice is almost a plea-- a final warning. 

You slide your legs wider and Aizawa’s body shifts down, lining up against yours. You can feel him, pressed just hard enough against your cunt to nestle between your lips, barely an inch away from where you want him. The promise of stretch nearly takes your breath away. No-- he isn't where you want him: he's where you need him.

You swallow down your last bit of worry and let your head fall back on to the pillow. 

“Then fuck me slow.” 

It’s not unusual for Aizawa to curse, but the string of swears that escape his mouth sends a chill down your spine. It’s blurted, rushed, slurred; He’s never a chatty man, but now he rambles, mouth never stopping as his hips press forward.

“Needy thing, pretty thing, sweet thing.” The tip of his cock pops inside you without much resistance. You're too soaked for friction, almost too wet. The taste of him makes your toes curl, pussy clench- it's not enough, not enough, not enough-

Your partner hunches over, forehead clunking against yours with a pained groan. 

“How are you that fucking tight?” he gripes. “How are you so fucking perfect ?” 

“Shou-” you wiggle your hips and he groans again, deep and wild. “Fuck me, fuck me.”

“I will, I am--”

“Please!”

“I'm trying not to--”  He takes a shaky breath. His hands are clenched in the sheets, so hard you can feel his bicep flex against your side.  “Embarrass myself.”

A thrill runs down your spine. Your body suits him so well that he's already on the brink, already ready to cum. It makes your ego flare. He wants you. he wants you so badly. After making you cum so many times, the only thing you should want is petty revenge, but now, in this moment, you want him to feel good with you.

“I don't care,” you urge. Your hand sneaks down between your legs, working tiny circles around your abused clit. The sensation is electric, so much so that you swear you can see lightning behind your eyes. An orgasm might not even be possible at this point, but you can't help but try. “Just fuck me.”

Finally- thankfully, beautifully, finally- Aizawa sinks his whole cock into you. It's been a while since someone's been inside you, so the pressure feels good, but strange and unfamiliar. A sound must escape you: Aizawa suddenly stops, pulling back ever so slightly. 

"Are you okay-?"

“Keep going-” You urge as you wrap your legs around his waist. “Keep going.” 

Ever so obedient, Aizawa rolls his hips, harder this time. Your body makes lewd sounds with every stroke, the wet smack of your folds being spread audible over the sound of your heavy breathing. Your muscles give to his thickness and you can feel every stroke deepen until his hips are finally pressed against yours. The button of his pants digs into your ass, but the discomfort is almost pleasurable.

“Needed this, didn’t you?” he whispers. “Needed to be taken care of?”

Your voice is staccato with his thrusts. He’s not being rough, but you’re so sensitive that it feels like he is manhandling you, abusing your overly loved body- “Y-yeah.”

“Your boyfriend didn’t take care of you?”

If he had said that at any other time, you may have gotten upset, but you feel so open, so bare-

“No…” You flop back onto the mattress. You hadn’t realized how curled you had been against him, how hard your fingers had been digging into his skin. The relaxation changes to pleasure; it’s a sweet, liquid heat, rolling through you like melted molasses. “No, he never-- he couldn’t--”

“Poor thing-”  His teeth nip at the stop under your earlobe, catching skin with his canines. “So neglected-”

Oh, that cocktail of hormones in your brain has you stupid and emotional.  “Yeah.”

“I’ll take care of you,” he bites again and you know there’s going to be another bruise to explain away tomorrow. “I’ll spoil you.”

Aizawa hooks an arm under your leg and lifts it. The angle changes and his cock hits a previously untouched spot; your body kicks and twitches. It feels impossible, but you’re going to cum again, you’re going to cum before he does, and you’re going to revel in it.

“Touch-” Your voice is high with want. “Touch my tits?”

It’s barely a question, almost a demand, and Aizawa is more than eager to obey. His free hand finds the pebbled curve or your nipple and flicks his thumb over it, searching for a positive reaction. When he doesn’t get it, he changes his touch, waiting to your approval.

“Like that-” you finally confirm. His rutting gets harder, but not faster; it's slow grinds, taking advantage of every inch and then some. The coarse of his pubic hair is delightful friction against your clit; it nearly hurts with how good it feels.  “Just like that-”

“Good// girl, yes.” His tone is so desperate. “Tell me what you need.” 

Oh, you wish you could, but your voice is failing you right now. It's like every brain cell in your head is dedicated to lighting up with ecstasy, downing in him, him, him, him--

“I'll give it to you, give you everything you ever want-” Shouta whispers into the shell of your ear. He's being so steady, so patient; it's nothing like the other times you had sex. There's no rush, no urgency.  “I want you spoiled. I want you greedy. I want to ruin you for anyone else.” 

You can't cum again. Your body is too spent, too used, too-- too-- too--

Everything inside you goes rigid and you come undone once again. It's embarrassing and loud: both your mouth and your cunt. You're saying something, but you don't know what, if it's even words at all. The heat of pleasure is boiling your mind, your senses. 

You’re not a virgin. You haven't been for years, but suddenly you feel inexperienced, naive. Sex could feel like that? It could make you feel like this?

Shouta's hips press against yours and he groans, deep and unabashed. Warm fills you, accompanied by the twitch of his cock, and you realize he's cumming too, melting into you--

At the last moment, he catches you in an open mouthed kiss. It's messy, mostly tongue and spit, the kind you can't breathe through, but you find yourself pressing back, licking and sucking and nipping and drowning in it all, giving yourself to the moment--

“That was-”

You clumsily slap a hand upwards, tapping the side of his face. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you still can’t fully make out his silhouette. 

“Don't talk,” you mumble.  “I-- haa.” 

The roll of your hips just won't stop. The last flickers of your orgasm are still burning and you can't help but stroke them on. You swear there's literally sparks behind your eyes and no bones left in your body; you don't know how you're even moving. Against your will, your cunt twitches, pulling a pained groan from Shouta.

“Can I speak now?” he mumbles through your fingers. Your hand falls back to the bed. “You're going to have to give me a couple minutes before another round.”

The hard of his cock is already softening inside you.  God, the cloud of post-coitus bliss has you so soft you feel sappy; you never want him to pull out, never want to lose his body heat. If you could lift your arms again, you'd wrap them around him.

“My heart might stop if we go again,” you whine. That was the first bare cock you've ever taken. 

He chuckles and it hits you in the chest like a fucking bullet. Oh, this is bad. Pathetic. Lovely. You might cry or laugh or pass out.

 “Is that good?” he asks, tone evident that he knows it's very, very good.

“I think I came so hard I had a stroke.” That has to be the only reason you’re feeling so wobbly.

“The only stroke is you stroking my ego.” A pitiful noise escapes you as he rolls away, groaning as he gets to his feet. He sucks in air through his teeth, then releases it carefully.The room is suddenly unbearably cold; you shake and shiver, silently wishing he’d come back.  “Let's get you cleaned up. Light’s coming on.” 

 The sound of his hands fumbling on the side table is followed by the click of the lamp turning on. Warm light floods the room and you finally get a glimpse of him. His already loose curls are mussed, fallen in front of his flushed cheeks. His chest has a sprinkling of hair - trimmed, it seems - and a trail down from his belly button. He's already tucked his cock away into his briefs, but his pants are unzipped. His underwear is a light green; it makes you laugh a bit. At least both of you are fucked. 

Shouta takes his turn to observe you. You must look even worse: naked, hair a mess, legs spread and cum dripping down the track of your ass. 

“Shit-” Sleep nearly sideswipes you immediately, so hard you’re struggling to even care. “We made a mess.”

Aizawa regards you again, brow raised. “Mostly you.” 

Oh, you beg to differ. The mess he made inside you feels sloppy and slippery, leaking from much too deep inside you. It's the first bare cock you've ever taken, you realize. It felt dangerously good, with none of the friction or stink of the condom. Even the tickle of warmth inside you is surprisingly pleasant.

That's dangerous knowledge, especially with the consequences.

“You shouldn't have…”  you try to sit up a bit to be serious. “Inside me.”

Realization catches Aizawa's face. 

“I should have asked,” he says.   “I was… caught up.”

“It’s okay.” Especially because you liked it. You flop back down with a sigh. “I’ll get a Plan B in the morning.”

Aizawa  shifts his weight and hisses at the pressure. Before you can say anything he turns, headed towards the bathroom.

“I… I can’t get you pregnant.”  The faucet runs while he speaks. “I can buy it for you anyway, if you want to be extra safe.” 

“Oh,” you say, shifting uncomfortably. You believe him, of course; he's not a liar. Maybe about silly things, but not about this. “I didn’t know that.”

He turns the sink off and returns, washcloth in hand. 

“Of course you didn't.” Aizawa gestures for you to spread your legs. You hesitate, then remember exactly what you've been doing these past two days. He's eaten your cunt; you guess he can see it again. Resting against the edge of the bed, he runs the cloth against the mess inside of your thighs. It's hot, but not uncomfortably so. “Sterility doesn’t come up in conversation very often.”   

He runs the cloth into the crook between your leg and pussy. You would have thought the act demeaning, but it’s sweet.

“Vasectomy?” you ask. 

“Nature. Maybe the accident. Either way.” 

He shrugs it away, but there's an edge of something deeper in his voice. He tries to hide it, eyes focused down as he folds the towel over itself and then gingerly touches it to your outer lips.

“I shouldn’t have pried,” you mumble. 

“It’s not prying,” he says.  “I’d argue it’s very much your business right now.” 

The washcloth gets tossed into a corner. The thought of it mildewing there makes your stomach turn, but you're entirely too tired to consider picking it up yourself. Your partner knots his hair into a low hanging bun, just something to get the hair off of his nape. He hesitates at the edge of the bed, not entirely on or off, just hovering in the periphery. 

“Did you want kids?”  

Aizawa glances up, brows knotted together. This time, you really think you may have overstepped. 

“I didn’t mean with me!” you try to recover. Just… in general.”

You're ready for him to step away, but instead he sinks a bit closer to you in the bed, head lounged, lips pursed. 

“No, I don’t.” He heaves it like a confession.   “Considered it for a moment. But, I decided I’m not the paternal type.”

Shouta huffs so hard that his body puffs and deflates.

“Can barely handle those fucking interns.”

The laugh sneaks out of you. Aizawa watches you from his perch, eyes narrowed with amusement. The cool air starts biting at your skin; you scuttle under the covers, then pat the space beside you.

“You scare the shit out of them,” you say. 

“Good.” 

“You could be nicer.”

You pat the empty space again. This time, Shouta obliges. He settles under the covers, a healthy distance from you.  

“It's my job to be mean. We're making items that directly affect people's lives.” He shares your pillow, the special one you brought from home, the silk one that gives just right. “Have you ever been in a hospital bed?”

“No.”

“It's miserable. You don't get a lot of rest. Nurses come in every couple of hours to check on you-- nurses working twelve hour shifts with too many patients to handle.” His eyes are distant, even as he looks your way.  He's thinking about the accident. You want to ask questions about it, but instead you listen. “If we can design something to make that experience better, something to help patients and nurses, we should be serious about it. They should care.”

A moment passes. You try to imagine him younger, sadder. You try to imagine him in those beds-- then try to imagine him before. The silvered scar on his cheek: what would his face look without it?

“I know on the surface it sounds silly,” he continues, a bit more grave. “It's a bed. But if we can make monitoring tools for nurses easier, feed reports directly into the system. Heart rate, breaths per minute, blood pressure-- it takes a load off of their plates and lets them focus on patients who need it.”

His head rolls towards you and your noses are only inches from each other. It feels like you’ve been momentarily allowed into an inner sanctum, opened a door to a part of him you shouldn't be allowed to see. The long nights at the office make more sense now; you had always thought he was just a workaholic. 

“And these beds might be the last place someone lives before they die.”  Aizawa says. “They deserve comfort. Dignity.”

He tilts his head down to regard you, then starts a bit, bewildered. 

“Why are you giving me that look?” 

You bite down your own smile. 

“Just…” Your hand finds his chest. “Didn't realize you cared so much.”

Aizawa rolls his eyes as he places his own hand over yours. 

“Don't tell the interns,” he grumbles. “Don't want them to think I'm soft.”

The sleep that nips are your cerebellum is the cozy kind, the kind that eeks your eyes closed bit by bit. Aizawa places the towel on the ground and you watch him. His features are the same as they always are, but your brain has recontextualized it all; the silvered scar on his cheek, the flat of his nose… you smile.

“Do you have pictures?” you mumble. 

“Hm?”

“Of your cats.”

Aizawa looks back at you, surprised. Then, he melts a bit, pulling his phone from his pocket. He joins you back on the bed, over the covers, arm scooping behind your head almost protectively. The position is intimate; you make it more so by resting your head on his shoulder. It only takes a moment for him to pull up a photo of two cats, both lounging in a strand of sunshine, both tummy up and dead asleep.

“Sesame.” He points to the black cat in the picture, then the fluffy white and orange one. “Sushi.”

“They're cute.”

“They're good cats.” His voice rumbles in his chest, undertones you've never heard before. You cuddle in closer to listen better, close your eyes to really focus. “Sushi is older now, so she mostly sleeps. Sesame is two-- three, actually.”

You hum in acknowledgement. The thrum of his heart is slow and strong. 

“Been considering getting another. For when Sushi dies.” he tilts his head in thought. “I'm not ready to be a forty year old man with three cats.” 

You try to give him that look again, but your eyes just won't open. “And you said you aren’t paternal.”

There's a long stretch of quiet behind that. 

“Do you have pets?” His voice takes you out of your sleep, but not enough for you to fully rouse. 

“Are you falling asleep?” 

Again, there’s a long stretch of silence, only the rise and fall of your breaths and the hum of the air conditioner to fill the room. Right as you start to lose grip on the waking world, Shouta moves, pressing his lips right into the center of your forehead. 

 “Do you want children?” he asks into your skin, voice frailer than you ever thought possible.

[yanderenightmare]

The Four Seasons as Boyfriends

♡ AN: from the Promptlist

♡ TW: nsfw and fluff, really soft yandere, if yandere at all

♡ GN reader

Autumn is always half awake but never fully asleep. 

In the morning, he likes pairing coffee with a smoke out on the balcony—standing shirtless, black tattoos on his pale skin, despite the cold wind, watching the sun rise, sporting tousled hair and dark sunken eyes. 

He spends his days more or less the same way. There’s a briskness in the breeze and rain every other day, and all the leaves have turned shades of brown and orange, matting the ground in wet heaps, leaving the trees to look like skeletons. He likes going for short walks just before the sun goes down, when the sky is a warm pink and there ain’t a soul to be seen, and it feels like the two of you are the only people who’ve stayed behind before the apocalypse came.

At night, he’ll stay up late, watching Halloween movies with you in his arms, drinking something stronger than coffee, and smoking something different than cigarettes. He’ll never flinch when the gory scenes play. He’ll just run his thumb up and down your arm and hold you close with a low chuckle.

He’s a quiet guy who spends his time observing more than talking, a real philosopher, writing down things on this old typewriter he has, anything from crime novels to other horrific things. He’s somewhat grim that way—you think he might have been a mob boss in his previous life. 

But he’s got this dry-humored side as well, and a romantic one too—one that whispers awfully heart-gripping things to you in bed, gives you small gifts on all your anniversaries. Half-mast dark eyes without a smile on his lips, bringing your palm up for a kiss. 

Maybe it wasn’t a past life, you think, maybe he’s a vampire who’s been plenty of things. Come to think of it, you’ve only ever seen him outside when the sun has been safely hidden behind a veil of grey clouds. You don’t know, he just seems like he’s come from another age in the way he’ll treat every day like something to be enjoyed slowly, every moment together to be savored, and every detail of your face something to be not just remembered but cherished.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shoto, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Megumi, Toji, Yuuta, Choso, Higuruma ♡ HQ – Kageyama, Kuro, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Suna ♡ CSM – Aki, Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin, Sae ♡ AOT – Eren ♡ DS – Akaza, Tomioka, Genya ♡ HxH – Chrollo, Illumi, Feitan

Winter wants to spend all his days inside, wrapped up with you in bed like a bear in hibernation. You have to all but fight your way out of his hold in order to get up. 

He groans when you leave, whimpering at the cold, but eventually, he musters up enough willpower to follow you. He’ll have the duvet wrapped around him still, slippers padding towards the smell of breakfast. He’s still sleepy until he gets a good, warm cup of chocolate coffee. 

Clad in a warm blue sweater, pilled from wear, but cozy still, and a pair of baggy corduroys and fuzzy socks in all sorts of colors. 

He’s super reluctant about leaving the house—will literally find any excuse not to and do anything to avoid having to. He’ll stand in the mudroom with you like an obstinate brat as you dress him, putting on his scarf, hat, and gloves for him before pulling him into his jacket. 

He’s pouty at first, whining about his nose freezing, but after a while, he gets more than happy-go-lucky in the snow. Acting just like a dog, bounding about, tackling you down, and rolling around with you so that you’re both sure to catch a cold. 

You build a snowman together, make angels, and a little igloo where he’s deadset on the two of you sleeping tonight. Yeah, not likely, is all you think, knowing him and how the minute the two of you get home, he’s going to hunker down with all the duvets and blankets he can find and cry about how he’s never going outside again. 

And sure enough, the two of you trudged home, freezing cold and exhausted from all the frivolity, he in a whiny mood. You enter the shower together, and he just stands there, arms around you, draping you with his entire body under the water, defrosting. 

Like before, you end up doing things for him. Shampooing the sweat out of his hat-hair and soaping the rest of him up, then doing yourself the same way.

He’s just as clingy when you’re done. Dressed in fluffy robes, he’ll hold you close on his lap and put on a Christmas movie, something funny, something for children, The Grinch or Home Alone, or a romcom you’ve watched a thousand times before.

He’ll eat gingerbread men instead of dinner, drink one too many cups of eggnog, and tell you how he wants to curl up inside your heart where it's nice and toasty and stay there forever—meanwhile, his hand explores your naked body under your robe.

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Toaya, Hawks, Natsuo ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo ♡ HQ – Hinata, Tanaka, Kuro, Lev, Bokuto, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira ♡ DS – Doma, Zenitsu ♡ WB – Umemiya, Togame

Spring is an early bird. Big breakfast spreads every day, wild flowers on the table in a hand-painted coffee mug, toasted bread with a dozen types of spreads, sliced meat, cheese, scrambled eggs, different jams, strawberry, peach, blueberry, apricot, raspberry, and all the currants.

He’s always got a big goofy smile on his face, wearing baggy dongeries and bright pastel-colored T-shirts—green, pink, yellow, and blue. His hair is fluffy, his eyes are round, and he’s always got a new pair of suede sneakers on.

He’d make a great dad, having the personality of a guy who’s a kindergarten teacher, the way he’s all about DIY easter decorations. He has his own craft cart, fully equipped with different colored paper, patterned tape, and glitter in all pretty colors.

He’s never been a very traditional guy, always raving about new ideas, dreams he’s had, things he’s seen when scrolling through Pinterest—you can't hope to keep up...

Your walls have all been painted—not like other walls—but as if the wallpaper were canvas. All your chairs have been bought at yard sales and other second-hand stores, refurbished by him, and hand-painted in different colors with cushions in different fabrics. Your coffee table is an old wine crate he found at a junkyard. All your blankets are knitted with spare yarn from all his other projects.

He also scrapbooks like no other, filling the pages with receipts and tickets he’s saved from your outings and vacations, and Polaroid pictures he’s taken of you, with dates and locations written along the white bottom.

Not to mention, how in the kitchen window, he’s hung the empty egg husks from breakfast, decorated with swirls and dots, with letters spelling Happy Easter!

He also makes you love letters—indulgent paragraphs with an overwhelming amount of love-bombing and hopes and dreams about your future together, always with the wording of a five-year-old child talking about their favorite type of food. 

Yeah, he’s no poet, but it’s the thought that counts, and so A for effort!

♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Hawks, Mirio ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuji ♡ HQ – Hinata, Sugawara, Bokuto, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ DS – Zenitsu ♡ WB – Nirei, Umemiya

Summer is tan with tan lines from his swimming trunks. He’s all smiles and loud laughter, too careless for shades and sunscreen, and so you’re the one who’s left running after him when he sprints towards the water, like a parent, shouting at him to put on some protection.

He filled the cooler up with sodas and beers before you left home, and has brought along firelighters, making a bonfire on the sand for grilled fruits, vegetables, and meats, so that the two of you can spend the day.

His hair is sun-damaged and bleached with saltwater, but he makes it look good with his freckled face, looking as though he lives on the beach. He’ll go in the water several times, never tiring.

He likes to promenade in flip-flops like he’s on constant vacation,  always shirtless, letting his swim-trunks dry while the two of you walk along the shore as the sun gets low, giving you his sweater once the air gets a little chilly. Making plans for how you can fill the rest of the summer. 

He’s got never-ending ideas, you don’t think you’ll have time for it all—hiking, biking, camping, festivals, outdoor movies, picnics, farmers markets, berry picking, kite flying, ice cream, gardening, going diving, sailing, fishing, hot air balloons, parachuting, bungee jumping, skydiving—yeah, his ideas get progressively more extreme as he goes.

But at home, when he’s all drained out from the sun, he’s a quiet presence. Warm still, but calm, lining up pretty seashells and dried-up corals along all the windowsills, before the two of you hit the shower. Washing off salt and sweat, and about a bucket's worth of sand that remains between the cracks in the tiles.

He’ll leave kisses against your neck and shoulder, murmur things in a voice you don’t recognize from the day, but a grainier one belonging to the night, telling you all the dirty things he’s going to do to you now that the sun’s fully down.

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Touya, Hawks, Natsuo ♡ JJK – Gojo, Yuji ♡ HQ – Hinata, Sugawara, Tanaka, Kuro, Lev, Bokuto, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ CSM – Denji ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira, Shido ♡ WB – Umemiya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[sugarwarachan]

you mention free use to aizawa one time thinking he won’t do anything about it because he’s always exhausted af - but come the next morning he palms the back of your neck and roughly bends you over the counter while you’re making coffee, tugs your underwear to the side and slides his cock in between your thighs, letting it rest right under your clothed cunt until he gets you needy and wet just from feeling his dick jump against you - and when he finally slides inside you you nearly cum when he says, “fuck angel. she’s telling me just how much you like this, isn’t she?”

[blasphemyandbackshots]

wait so imagine aizawa is up all night grading tests or whatever teachers do and hes like super exhausted that he falls asleep and when he wakes up all the work is done cuz the user did it (user is also a teacher) and hes like "ily im gonna fuck you so bad" and HE DOES. pls do it IM ON MY KNEES 🥀🥀

ღ shouta aizawa x you —between papers & spread legs

It was well past midnight when Aizawa finally slumped over the coffee table. Papers scattered everywhere, lesson plans, behavior reports, seating charts. His handwriting had grown sloppy somewhere between 2 and 3AM and now the pen had fallen from his fingers completely. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He never did, but the exhaustion had won.

You found him like that, hunched and snoring softly, dark hair falling into his face. With a fond sigh, you eased the blanket off the couch and draped it over him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before sitting down beside the mess of documents. You didn’t want him to wake up stressed again. So you took over and sorted the reports, finalized his lesson notes, even highlighted key bullet points like you knew he would. You worked in quiet companionship with the sound of his even breathing and somewhere between 4 and 5AM, your body gave out too. You curled up on the couch near him and let sleep take you.

The sun was barely up when Aizawa stirred. His body ached, his mouth dry, but when his bleary eyes landed on the neatly stacked papers and then on you, fast asleep with a highlighter still tucked in your fingers, something in his chest twisted. He moved quietly, carefully, crawling onto the couch between your thighs, eyes locked on your soft, sleeping face. You were always doing this for him. Always stepping in when he ran himself into the ground.

He leaned in, warm breath ghosting over your skin. His mouth met you slow and purposeful. Soft licks, deep kisses that built and built until your hips shifted, breath catching in your throat as you stirred.

“Mmm… ’Zawa?” you whispered sleepily, breath hitching as your thighs spread for him without a second thought.

He groaned low against you, tongue working deeper while his big hands stroking your sides. “Morning,” he murmured against your skin. “Thank you… for last night.”

Then his voice dropped to that filthy, gravel-soft tone that made your spine melt, “Now let your man fuck you real good.”

You blinked yourself awake, the warm rasp of his voice still lingering in your ears. Your breath caught again when his tongue dragged slow and deep over your folds. You were soaked already, your body surrendering the second his mouth touched you. You whined softly, fingers curling in his hair, trying to focus, but he wasn’t letting you. Aizawa kissed your clit like he loved it, lips wrapping around it, sucking until your thighs trembled. His fingers slid beneath your hoodie, tracing lazy patterns on your stomach as his mouth kept working slow, thorough, like he had all the time in the world and nothing else he wanted to do.

“Fucking perfect,” he muttered against you, his voice low and ruined with sleep, “always so sweet for me, even half-awake.”

You arched under his mouth, hips rolling up into him. He let you, dragging his tongue down to your entrance again, tasting you with a low groan. “Mhm… just like that. You did so good, baby. Took care of me when I should’ve been taking care of you.”

“‘Zawa,” you whimpered, pulling at his hair now, “need—please, need you inside me.”

He kissed your inner thigh, your mound, your stomach as he pulled himself up. His dark eyes were heavy-lidded, still tired but lit with something hotter now, something molten and possessive. His sweatpants were already tugged low, his cock thick and flushed, leaking at the tip.

“Yeah?” he said softly, settling between your legs again. “Then let me fuck you slow, baby. Let me take my time.”

He pressed inside with one long, delicious thrust, stretching you deep. He groaned into the crook of your neck as your body opened for him.

You moaned, legs wrapping around his hips, arms thrown around his shoulders. “God—‘Zawa—feels so good…”

He didn’t rush. His thrusts were deep, unhurried, like he was memorizing the feel of you around him. Each one hit a little deeper, a little more intense, his hand stroking up your side until he was palming your breast through your hoodie. “You feel that?” he murmured, lips brushing your ear. “Feel how good you take me? Pussy was made for me, baby. Can’t get enough of you.”

You nodded breathlessly, panting under him as he rutted deeper and his hips started stuttering. He kissed your cheek, your jaw, your mouth, whispering low between kisses, “You didn’t have to stay up for me. But you did. You always do. Gonna make you come, baby. Gonna make you feel so good for taking care of your man.”

His thumb found your clit, rubbing slow circles while his thrusts picked up, harder now. He was grinding so deep your breath caught on every stroke. Your climax crept up like a hot overwhelming wave and when it crashed, you cried out his name, clinging to him, back arching as your pussy clenched tight around him. He groaned quietly, hips jerking as he fucked you through it, chasing his own release. “Fuck—gonna come inside you, baby. Let me—let me fill you up.”

“Please, please, yes,” you gasped, biting down on his shoulder.

He came with a grunt, spilling deep, his cock twitching inside you as he ground himself in to the hilt. His body slumped over yours, panting, sweat-slicked and warm, his hair brushing your cheek.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, brushing your hair back and kissing your forehead. “My girl. My sweet girl.”

You smiled against his neck, arms still wrapped around him. Even after all the exhaustion, all the chaos, this was how he said thank you. With slow kisses, soft filth and the weight of his body curled around yours like he’d never leave.

[loverofcoffeeandfiction]

Yes please…